It was a beautiful day that lighted up the valley of Stone River; and the mellow October sun flooded the scene with splendor, when the crowds began to flow towards the Agricultural Fair Grounds, now re-furbished with great care, and decorated with every available bit of bunting in the place. An enormous throng greeted the sight of the players as they entered the enclosure and made their way directly to the officers' old rooms, now set apart for the use of the members of the two nines. Special trains had been run on the two railroads entering the town, and from the country round about came long lines of farm-wagons filled with rustic belles and beaux, stalwart young fellows from the rural districts, elder people from outlying villages, and small boys who had heard from afar the news of the great event that was about to happen, and had trudged into town from distant homes, carrying their frugal luncheons with them--all bound to see the sport. There was Judge Howell's carriage, you may be sure, with the Judge, his pretty daughter, and his prim sister, eager for the sight, even Miss Anstress grimly admitting, as if under great mental pressure, that she did hope that the Catalpas would beat and so have done with what she thought a long and very unnecessary contest for the championship of the State. There, too, was old Rough and Ready, alert and spry as a lad of nineteen, making himself very busy trimming the flags, inspecting the grounds, and running of errands for the players, conscious that but for him the game could not go on. There was a great and tumultuous cheer when the two nines, clad in their uniforms, finally emerged from the unpainted little buildings near the judges' stand in which they had made ready for the game. Hank Jackson, with what some thought was unparalleled impudence, under the circumstances, but which may have been prompted by a spasm of repentance, stood up on his seat and proposed "three rousing cheers for the Catalpa nine" as that famous organization filed into the Diamond Field. Whereupon, Mr. Heaton, fixing his fond paternal eye on his son, now wearing the uniform of the home club, waved his tall hat and asked for three cheers for the visitors, and these were given with a will. "Ah!" sighed Alice, as the Catalpas lost the toss and went to the bat at the direction of their antagonists, "that is a bad sign; but I have made up my mind not to notice any more signs, good, bad, or indifferent." "A sensible conclusion, child," said the aunt. "I have heard that base ball players are as superstitious as sailors, and that is one reason why I think that the game must be debasing to the morals of the players." Alice laughed loud and long at this, and even the Judge relaxed his face into a smile as he heard the sage observation of the elderly lady before him. "Pay attention, Alice," said her friend Ida, "there goes that handsome Larry to the bat!"